These days it feels as if everyone should be taking notes at gigs and not just if you are reviewing it. A few years ago there was a fear that stand-up was dumbing down. That we were destined to live in a world where we did nothing but put useless odds and ends in our man drawers. This week, however, I've been struck by how often comedy currently opts for the high brow option.

This is one of those crazy busy comedy weeks that makes it worth living in London. You could easily see a top show every night – if you can afford it – and still not catch everything, so without further ado I'll rattle through your options.

Don't hibernate, get out next month and see some live comedy in London. Here is your handy cut-and-paste guide to the essential shows next month. Starting out with one essential show later this month...

David Baddiel's first Edinburgh run since 1998 is proving to be the hit of the Fringe. His show, Fame: Not The Musical, has garnered rave reviews across the board and he has just announced two extra afternoon shows on Aug 10 & 11. Ticket details here.

If you want to get an idea of the sheer sweat, graft and toil that goes into preparing an Edinburgh Fringe show you should follow Richard Herring's daily Warming Up blog at the moment. As well as talking wittily about life in general he entertainingly charts the struggle to get to his preview gigs, the difficult audiences and, most importantly, he also dissects his set as it evolves.

Michael Parkinson eat your heart out. Roll over Graham Norton and tell Alan Carr the news. Richard Herring's "Stephen Fry in suicide attempt" scoop has shown that the biggest stories are not always stage managed and released to the media as part of a strategy worked out with military precision.

Update 17/6 – Following Richard Herring's innovative, generous Edinburgh Fringe offer below, serial maverick Lewis Schaffer has decided to get in on the act and has just made the following announcement:

I was a little worried when I heard that Harry Hill was going back on the road after eight years away. Would it be a case of a deluded boxer returning to the ring thinking he could still cut it? Would it be like Bjorn Borg making his comeback with an old wooden tennis racquet? I didn't need to worry. I saw Hill's Sausage Time spectacular – and spectacular is the only word for it – on its first night in London a few weeks ago and, if anything, the lunacy was sharper than ever.